


If You're Reading This

by justcallmeasmodeus



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 03:21:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15597108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justcallmeasmodeus/pseuds/justcallmeasmodeus
Summary: After a mishap, Castiel helps you deliver a letter.





	If You're Reading This

The second that blade pierced your skin, you knew. Time stopped, and the world around you slowed. You heard your name leave Dean’s lips, but he was miles away. The demon released the angel blade and stepped back, the smug grin on his face mocking you. Dean roared, and your determination blazed. You gripped the hilt of the blade with your remaining strength, and in one fluid motion pulled it from your abdomen and shoved it into his with a yell. Hot, sticky blood oozed from your wound, and the yellow flashes of light from his dying soul flashed across your face.

You heard Dean hit the ground from where he had been pinned to the wall as the demon’s body crumpled before you. He caught you by your shoulders as your knees buckled, his face pale and his eyes guarded. You knew that he knew as well, somewhere inside, but right now he refused to believe it. He laid you down on the floor and replaced your hand with his, applying significantly more pressure as his field training took over.

“Hey, hey look at me. It’s okay to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“Dean…” You coughed, and your mouth was flooded with warm copper.

“Shhh I’m not going to let you go. I’ve got you I just need to-”

“Dean.” The edges of your vision were fading to black, and you could feel the cold creeping in. There would have been worse ways to go than bleeding out.

Dean looked up from your wound, and locked eyes with you. You could see him breaking inside, losing himself as he lost you. You reached up with a shaking hand, needing to feel his skin, hot under your palm, one last time.

“You’re going to be okay. Promise.”

The last thing you felt was his tear wet on your palm as it fell from his cheek.

* * *

 

It was nice, but it wasn’t heaven without Dean. You were sitting in a memory, wishing more than anything that the Steve Wariner had been right, and that you could watch Dean right now. You sat down, pulling your legs to your chest, resting your head on your knees and replaying everything that went wrong on the hunt that put you here, knowing exactly where Dean would interpret this as his fault.

“Y/N.” Your head snapped up.

“Cas!” You jumped up, running over to crush him in a hug.

“I can’t stay. I’m not supposed to be here, but Dean insisted.”

“Cas I need you to do something for me.”

 

* * *

 

Dean opened the door to the room you shared, his room now, and kicked off his boots. He ran a hand over his face as he turned on the light, pausing when he noticed the envelope nestled on the pillows. His name was scrawled across the top in your handwriting, and his breath caught in his throat. A burning lump grew as he crossed the room, carefully pulling out the letter and turning to sit on the bed.

 

_Dean,_

_If you’re reading this, then I’m not coming home. I guess that ‘one more last hunt’ finally caught up with me. I’ve hidden this letter in hopes that you won’t find it until you’re supposed to, so if I’m at the store STOP SNOOPING._

_Stop blaming yourself. Whatever happened, it wasn’t your fault. I ran out of time, just like you will one day. You have to let go of your guilt, for me._

_You are not your father. You are a better man, you’ve always been a better man. You were the best thing that ever happened to me Dean, and I’m glad I got to share this crazy life with you._

_You are a good man. I know that you don’t think you are, but deep down you are good. You’ve made mistakes, you’ve got your scars and cracks, but you truly are a good soul. Remember that._

_Don’t forget to look at the stars sometimes. You always forget to look. They’re so beautiful, and you get so wrapped up in the big picture that you forget to see the beauty of a moment. Look at the stars and find me. I’ll be watching you._

_Put a headstone up for me, beneath that old oak tree in that clearing by the river. You know the one, where you first told me you loved me with the way your lips bruised mine, with that look in your eyes, with the touch of your hands, even after we promised we would never fall in love._

_I only have one regret; I never told you in person._

_I love you Dean._

_Y/N_

 

Two tears hit the paper before Dean folded the letter back up with shaking hands. He swallowed back the burning lump in his throat and pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes in an effort to hold everything in. He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, pressing his lips together in a tight line as he let it out. He strode over to his closet, pulling out a box from the back. He added the letter to the contents; a green and white hat with a bullet hole, a black and water-stained trench coat, and a bloodied and torn blouse, before climbing back into bed. He grabbed your pillow, burying his face and losing himself in your smell, before letting it go.

 

* * *

 

The granite was cold against his head as he watched the sun set. Fireflies danced on the twilight and the river babbled to his right. Crickets and katydids sang on the breeze as it caressed him, and the whiskey burned in his throat. It was nights like this when he missed you the most, when the beauty reminded him of you. He looked up as darkness fell, waiting and watching the sky change as time ticked by, willing his mind blank for the present moment. One by one the stars chased away the sun, until finally the one he was waiting for appeared. He smiled up at it, twinkling and shining a million light years away.

“I love you Y/N.”


End file.
